The blood that ran down Bela's nose and mouth had finally clotted. Parts of her skull ached with an unending soreness, while others were absent of feeling for the time being. The rest of her body had been salted by the surface of Malcolm's belt. She couldn't place a number to how many times he had struck her with it. It was certainly difficult to count after that one blow to the face.
It became a blur right after. She figured she would have gotten used to it by now. The abuse was so frequent at this point. If not, she would have to, sooner or later.
Out of her cage and tied to the chair in front of it, Bela kept still as the man tended to her. He regretted having allowed his anger to get the better of him, though, in his eyes, her punishment had been warranted. Malcolm didn't want to break her beyond repair. She needed to retain her beauty, especially with their marriage fast approaching.
Dabbing the moist rag against her crimson-stained cheeks, he smiled at those amber eyes of hers as he cleaned her up. "You're going to learn, eventually. That's why I still have faith in you. I can get you there."
It was too difficult to breathe through her clogged nostrils, so she took in air through her slightly opened mouth, instead. She kept her eyes on him instead of a verbal response, which was perfectly fine for him.
He wanted her to remain silent right now.
"I plucked you from the outside world," he said. "What else can I expect when you introduce a rabid animal into a civilized home?" Malcolm ran that rag down her jaw and neck, soaking up more of the sanguine trails before he turned to squeeze them out into the water-filled bucket nearby.
As he did so, Bela kept her eyes on the set of keys at his waist as they dangled around. They were always holstered to the loop of his pants. She found it reasonable to think that he would have them on him whenever he finally took her into his bedroom. She dreaded the very thought of that happening at all, but the blonde was desperate for a plan – one that was threaded to reality.
He was going to go about this ceremony of his, just as he had done with Edith and Mabel. She would become his 'wife' and then he would drag her off into that horrid chamber. There, she expected the worst of the worst. But if she could somehow gain the upper hand at that moment, then she could likely free herself from this place.
He always bound Mabel's wrists behind her back on their way to his room. Did those shackles remain on while he raped her? What could a blind woman do? Bela rationed that she would likely go in wearing the same ones, but if she could somehow convince Malcolm to undo them, then that may be the avenue she needed.
It was a direction, for now. Nothing more.
With her curiosity getting the better of her, Bela decided that she would push past her worn-down state and inquire about something that had been on her mind, "May I ask you a question?"
She saw his knuckles tighten against his skin as he clenched that rag in the bucket. "What?" He groaned.
"How do you protect yourself from the monsters outside?"
With a glance of confusion, he craned his neck and peeked at her from over his shoulder. "Huh?" He had not expected her to have even considered such a thing to ask. It was so random, but she clarified it immediately.
"I was never safe out there on my own," she told him, playing into his beliefs so that he may divulge the truth to her. "They always came for me, but you? You walked around so freely."
"My faith is what has kept me safe," he replied, standing up as he wiped more of the blood off of her. "My devotion to the Fabled Ones is so strong that they have chosen to grant me immunity from this plague."
He's either lying or he is that arrogant. There has to be a reason why Vikcia has not killed him yet.
"May I ask another question?" She remembered what happened the last time she asked without permission. If anything, he would think that she was adapting to his lifestyle, following the moment of resistance she had previously displayed. This strategy of hers was set up to provide a positive outcome, in one form or another. If she couldn't get any vital information, he would at least stay his hand.
"No."
She did not speak. As he wiped her face some more, Bela could not stop thinking about those walks of his. Given that he had found her during one of them, they may have just been a way for him to hunt for surviving women. There had been some success, no arguing that.
Yet, in a time like this, where Vikcia roamed the skies searching for her prey, it didn't make any sense at all why this man would have tried to locate more people. He already had two women locked away in his house. Why not stop there?
Faith? No. Vikcia would not bow to religious ideology. That creature was nothing but a hungry beast. She'd bite into the throat of anyone who crossed her path. Unless Malcolm had a giant lantern, she wasn't going to be avoiding him anytime soon. No, she thought. There had to be something else that he had not told her.
"Speaking of walks…" He picked up the bucket and walked it over to the other side of the living room, wringing out the bloodied rag into it. "I must check if the Sheer Orbs are in the sky. I think I finally have that demon's routine down to the mark. If I am not mistaken, they should be arriving soon."
Malcolm fixed his glasses as he stared into a small mirror above one of the tables. Bela could see him watching her as he did so. "When they come, I will prepare the ceremony. I think you have learned enough about the Fabled Ones to be a part of my life."
He sighed as he turned around and grabbed his dark peacoat off of the rack near the door, "Marriage is something that evolves. I cannot expect you, as a newlywed woman, to be at the same level as an experienced wife. Maybe that is where I went wrong with the other women here. I will not fail you."
She wanted him to leave immediately. Anything else but an act that aligned with his wants would only bring him back up to her, likely in a violent manner. "Thank you," she said, wanting to vomit for even choosing that route at all.
You are vile beyond all measure. I will never see you as what you portray yourself as.
Malcolm smiled at her as soon as he absorbed her words. "What a wonderful day this will be." He turned and exited the house, shutting the door and sealing it behind him. Bela could still hear the sound of his footsteps as they turned onto the cobblestone road, only to fade away in seconds.
How have none of the monsters heard him screaming at us? They used to storm the buildings Ethan and I were in the second we made an audible noise. Something is keeping these things at bay, but what?
It was only then that she realized she was still tied to his chair, instead of being confined to that cage. This could be it, she thought! Bela frantically began to tug at her restraints, hoping to somehow set herself free. Her eruption of adrenaline was so great that she did not hear Edith calling out to her until she paused to re-adjust her wrists.
"Bela…do not…do that."
"Why?" She could not understand why Edith was trying to dissuade her from escaping. She had never been granted this opportunity before. Her weapons had to still be in this house, somewhere. Her sickle. That gun. If she could get to them, Malcolm would be as good as dead the moment he returned.
Edith gave a chilling reminder of what their situation was like, "Malcolm likes to…check up on us."
"How?"
"Look at…the window…and wait."
Bela did just that, sparing a minute to see if Edith's warning was worth considering. Fear struck her heart as she noticed a shadow appear next to the opening between the windowsill and the boards that blockaded it. The figure, which was visible as only a slim, horizontal line, remained there for a little while before it finally turned away, the sound of footsteps against cobblestone trailing with it.
She was right. He was just waiting for me to try to escape…
The door to the house opened and Malcolm stepped back inside. His eyes fixated on her like a watchful dog. He was still trying to gauge just how determined she was to run off. "It is still night. I'll check again later. Until then, it is back in your cage."
Though she was terribly distraught inside, Bela could not have been more thankful to have been warned about his trick. The man would have likely subjected her to another round of torture had he caught her in the act. It gave credit to her that she would remain loyal, which would hopefully pay off in the form of him growing complacent.
Time would tell, but as he said – it would be back to the cage for her.
.
Malcolm had done another walk outside, only to return and say the same thing as he trekked across the room and into his bedroom. The night was still upon this city. At this rate, Bela thought, what else was different?
Vikcia's darkness had plunged the city into a near-eternal nocturnal state. How could he possibly have gotten her routine down, especially if he was wrong about it yet again? Bela fancied the idea that he was nothing but a pathological liar. Such a trait would have been fitting for a monster like him. As likely as that sounded, it was a scary thought, as nothing he said could ever be trusted then.
The blonde preferred to have some structure – some guidelines – that she could steer herself with along the way. The standards set would help formulate a better plan, but if Malcolm's word was no good, then she'd have to think twice about everything he told her.
That would also mean that she may not be his final project. If she did not meet his expectations, who was to say that he wouldn't disable her and then seek out another potential candidate? If Ethan or Kyia were to ever be found outside, the brunette would surely be the next target in his sights.
As much as Bela despised her, she would never want to see another woman go through what Edith and Mabel had suffered.
After the man had stayed inside with the door shut for quite a while, Bela found herself confident enough to engage in conversation with the paralyzed girl on the table next to her. "Thank you for what you did," she whispered.
"I made the…same mistake…once."
"Edith…" Bela turned around so that she could face her, gripping the bars of her cage as she did so. The blonde briefly turned her head to glance at the door to Malcolm's room, curling the edge of her mouth as she sat quietly for a few seconds, waiting for him to signal that he was about to leave. When he did not, she looked back at her friend and finished her sentence, "I am sorry that you had to suffer all by yourself. You are a warrior, in so many ways."
The young lady smiled back at her as she enjoyed the praise she was offered, "I never…gave up…thinking that I…could survive. I knew…I would have to…be there…in case he ever…did this again."
"When I escape, I am going to get us out of here," Bela said, only for Edith's smile to fade.
"Hey, Bela," she asked. "Can I…ask you a…personal question?"
The blonde nodded right away. "Ask me anything."
"Have you ever…loved someone?"
Huh? Why is she asking me that?
"Uhm." Bela didn't know what the proper response would have been. Was Edith talking about family, or – no. She knew what the girl was talking about. Love. The only kind of love that was never certain in this life. "Why do you want to know?"
The girl's youthful eyes drifted toward the wall. "It is…a silly dream of mine…but, I always…wished to meet a boy…who worked at…a bakery. There was…a very good bakery…near my home. I…would have liked to…have gotten a…small cake…made by someone who…loved me…in that sort of way."
Against the pain that vibrated throughout every nerve in her severed spine, Edith somehow pushed out a colorful giggle as she reflected on her old desires. It almost sounded like the girl she used to be was still alive in there. Bela could hear how much life she had, which only made her feel worse about how Malcolm could have harmed such a beautiful, young soul.
Edith spoke again, "I know it is…stupid, but…it would have…made me so happy."
"You deserve to be happy, Edith. Don't think that you shouldn't have what you want because of how someone else may perceive it."
Those bright teeth glimmered beyond those broken lips of hers. "Oh, how I…wish I had…heard that then."
She had her entire life ahead of her…
The brunette tilted her head to the side just a little bit more, hoping to get a better view of the woman in the cage. "Have you…ever found somebody…that you wanted?"
She could see Bela's stare move away from her. The blonde sat where she was, pondering the answer to that question as she turned and rested her shoulder against the bars. "I…" Her words hung up in her throat. Had she?
I've never loved anybody before. Ethan…the way I feel about – ugh, no. It can't be love. Could it be?
"I don't know, Edith." She shrugged her arm, listening to the chain move around across her chest. "What is love, anyway?"
"I think love…is something that…you find in someone…who you trust." The girl strained as she tried to move her head just a little bit more, but the damage to her cervical spine would not go unnoticed as she did so. The rest of her body was pure dead weight. "They understand you and…take care of you. You…can be yourself…around them."
I was never myself around Ethan, was I?
She remembered the conversations that they shared in those rooms. How he would give her something to sleep on. The way he ensured that she had something to eat when she was hungry. Ethan listened to what she had to say, not just waiting for her to cease her talking. Those laughs she gave at his remarks.
She had never laughed like that before.
Bela was torn between her definition of 'love' and what she perceived their interactions to be. There was no prolonged period to study this. She had only known this man for just a few days. A few days wasn't enough to tell just how much someone could matter.
But then she realized that not everything in life went according to plan, nor was it ever set to her standards.
I'm looking too hard into this. Love isn't a science. It shouldn't be. Daniela had it right. She said that it just happens. Love is about making a choice, but it's a choice we don't get to choose for ourselves. I ignored her every word about it, but I should have listened. We all should have listened to her. I miss her so much. I miss Ethan too, even though he probably wants to see me here. I'm sorry, Ethan. I wish things could have been different. I really wanted you to get to know me, but I didn't even know myself.
A tear emerged from her eye and she allowed it to stay there. Bela brought her knees up to her chest as she breathed out some of her heartache. As painful as it was to come to terms with what her reality was and what she had lost, she was also excited to finally admit this to herself. It made it feel more real.
"I think I do love someone." Her amber eyes gazed at the assortment of lanterns around them, recalling the glow of the light that allowed her to peek at his face whenever he wasn't looking. A smile drew across the corners of her mouth as she continued, "Yeah, I do. His name is Ethan. We used to hate each other, but then we got better, or at least I did."
"Does he…love you too?" Edith asked.
Bela's smile subsided a bit, but she tried to keep it strong. "I don't think he does. My family is to blame for something horrible that happened to him, and he blames me for it. He attacked me and I ran off, right before I ended up here. At first, I thought I was shaken up because of the way he lunged at me, but then I realized that I was just upset because I lost his trust." Her tear turned into two. "I lied to him about what happened, all because I wanted to protect what we had. I was a horrible woman and the way he treated me prior started to change that."
She finally wiped those tears away. "It felt so good to change. I just didn't know it at the time."
"No one who…loves someone…would ever hurt them."
Bela shook her head. "I don't blame him for what he did. I don't think that was even him. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same. I deserved it, for all the harm I had caused. Believe me when I tell you that he is a genuinely good man. I've never met anyone like that before."
"But…he didn't love you?"
"Why should he?" Bela sighed. "He and I were never meant to be together. He has lost a wife and a daughter, and we're just stuck in this city together. Sure, I may have guessed that he wanted to be around me sometimes, but who is to say that I was right?"
"What do…you think will happen…if he sees you again?" Edith was concerned, fearing that Bela would be walking into more pain.
"I don't know, Edith. I don't know at all." She sat her head back and looked up at the ceiling. "I would like to believe that he would be willing to talk to me. Maybe there might be a chance for us to overcome the past. I can only hope."
"That's what…love is," Edith remarked. "Hope."
"Yeah," Bela agreed. "That does sound right."
"If Ethan…does love you…he will…try to make it…work."
Ethan…please…just let me try. I wish you were here with me…
.
The path to 106 Perkel Street had been filled with danger. Ethan barreled through the dark corridors of the constable station, eventually finding his way back to the hole that led to Kyia's shelter. It finally clicked to him as to why the shelter had been located so close to that facility. If she had been in the custody of the police when Vikcia regained her powers and unleashed hell, then she had not gone far at all.
Unfortunately, for him, he was going to have to venture out way further if he was to rescue Bela. Crawling through the tunnel and into the charred remnants of the shelter itself, he could see the ruin that had befallen it following the fire he set forth. With his gun tucked into his shoulder, Ethan swept through the smokey field of blackened walls and scorched furniture. There were no infected in sight just yet, but he could afford to let his guard down.
Shambling past the obstacles in his way, he emerged from the shelter and found himself back in that familiar circular lot at the end of the long alley. The narrow way ahead surely would lead out to the cobblestone roads of this nightmarish city. With his flashlight in hand in case Vikcia was still around, Ethan moved further up until he approached the start of the alley itself.
With his back against the corner of one of the brick-laced buildings, he peered down at the ground, noticing the most peculiar thing.
"Huh?" Ethan bent over to pick up the item at his feet. It was a box of pistol ammunition. One that he had given Bela for her revolver. There was no mistaking it at all. She wouldn't have left this here. Not if she hadn't been attacked.
His visions – they had to be right after all.
"God damn it," he muttered to himself as he stood up and advanced toward the road. He had to get to her.
.
Malcolm's fury was at an all-time high. "Did I say you two could talk?!" He roared at Bela as he kicked her cage. The man had overheard the conversation between her and Edith just a minute earlier. He had stormed out of his room like a bullet through the barrel of a gun. Since then, it had been nothing but screaming from him.
"I'm sorry!" Bela recoiled back, terrified that he was going to harm her yet again.
"You still don't listen!" His foot kicked the iron bars a second time. "What is it going to take?! How many times do I have to hit you before you finally behave?!" A third kick commenced, which was so hard that the force of it sent the man backward into Edith's table.
The heavy fixture was sturdy enough to not tip over when he collided with it, but the impact knocked Edith's urine bag from its hook, causing the half-filled container to fall – taking the tube along with it.
In an expression of intense anguish, Edith's eyes pressed shut as she yelped. The vibration of her vocal cords also rattled her injured spine, sending a second shockwave throughout her system. This was the first time that Bela had seen her in such a state. Tears were already running down from her eyes. The more her lips tensed up, the more groans she squeezed out.
The ripping of the tube had to have cut a path of fire straight through her groin. That poor girl.
In a frenzy, Malcolm accidentally stepped on the urine bag, causing it to burst under his foot. The pungent smell of dehydrated waste expelled throughout the air, further inciting the man's rage. However, as he turned his eyes to Edith, he became alarmed at the sight of blood already soaking through her blanket. Grabbing a batch of rags that he kept on a nearby table within arm's reach, he pulled the cover up to assess the damage.
Bela could not get a good view from where she was seated, as only the edges of the teen's bare legs and hips could be seen. But Malcolm painted the picture as soon as he dabbed the rag down and soaked up a fresh splash of bright red blood.
"That got torn out good," he remarked, turning his head to the side to spit out an unheard curse word. As soon as his eyes were set back on her, he pressed the rag against the seeping wound that had been bored through her urinary tract. Edith was still reacting to the pain, so much so that she could be heard whimpering as he went about his actions. "Shut your mouth!" He shouted at her.
She could not hold back. The crying progressed, leaving Malcolm at a crossroads as to what he would do next. The wound had to be tended to. Infection would likely set in soon if nothing was done. Re-inserting the tub would not go well. Introducing urine into her bloodstream was a recipe for more disaster.
If the wound channel was not too deep, he could potentially make do with what real estate he had left. But with the way it was still bleeding out, there was no way to tell for sure. That would have to be controlled before he could do anything else. The man only knew so much about medicine, having dabbled in it in his earlier years. He was no expert surgeon, and the work he had already performed on the girl should have killed her.
It was only by a miracle that the colostomy had not been fatal. He barely knew what he was doing, nor was there any anesthesia. The Fabled Ones had to have been watching over them after all, he thought. It was the only way she made it through that night. Between the severing of her cervical spine and the constant invasive measures, she was practically a living corpse.
Would she make it through this?
He wanted to punish Bela greatly for the mess she had just caused. With the wedding on the horizon, there could be no setbacks. The girl still would not listen or learn, and his options had grown narrow. If Edith was not going to be a success, he had to find success in the blonde.
He then got an idea…
"You know what?" Malcolm set down the rag and walked around the corner of the table, baring down on Bela as he did so. "I don't think I've been teaching you the right way. No, not at all. You don't learn from getting hit. But I see that you care about Edith over here."
He stood up and turned around, grinning at the brunette he had harmed on so many prior occasions. Still reeling from the pain, she gulped at the look he gave her. "Maybe you'll reconsider yourself when your actions begin to affect her, instead. How does that sound?"
Bela grabbed at the bars of her cage, more stressed out than ever before. Her nose and mouth peeked past the edges of the barrier, while her eyes frantically glared at him, wide with the desire for mercy. "Please! I'm sorry! I am! If you're going to hurt somebody, hurt me! She didn't start this!"
"Somebody has to get hurt, Bela." Malcolm took hold of Edith's right index finger. "Somebody has to learn. I guess both can't be you, so my choice is that you learn." With a quick twist, he bent it upwards, causing the digit to audibly snap.
Edith's mouth opened as soon as the flaring waves of distress echoed through her hand. She could still feel the injury, even if her control of it had been stolen. Fighting more tears, the girl struggled to push out her next words, but she still did, "Please…stop…"
Bela continued to plead with him to leave her alone, "Stop! Do it to me!" She held her open hand out from her cage. "Take me!"
"You don't get to make decisions here," Malcolm coldly remarked as he let go of Edith's broken finger, using his palm to push against the girl's face as he made his way to the end of the table. It was at that moment he would do the most horrifying thing that Bela could have ever imagined.
Malcolm grabbed Edith by the ankles, dragging her body down toward where he was, stopping when her buttocks rested at the table's edge. Her nude form was on full display, fragile as he began to undo his pants. "I'll ignore the blood. I don't care. It's been a while anyway, right Edith?"
The brunette said nothing.
Hysterical as ever, Bela shook at her cage, hoping that she would somehow regain her abilities and tear him apart. But just like all the women she had murdered over the years – there was nothing that she could do. She was just as hopeless as they were. "Get away from her!" She sobbed as her forehead dragged down the iron bars. "Just do it to me! I deserve this, not her!"
Gasping through her mouth, Edith sniffled as she rotated her eyes toward the blonde. In the face of all the torment that her body was going through, she had found the strength to speak, "Let me be…the one to suffer…Bela."
The sound of his belt was heard jingling as his pants slithered down the edge of his calves. Malcolm began to push Edith's legs apart, while the girl closed her eyes, taking herself away to the days when life was a better promise.
This was all too much for Bela. She felt so guilty. Edith was about to pay the price for her. Even if this world had seen the eldest daughter of House Dimitrescu finally subjected to the sadistic will of an evil soul, it was the truly innocent that still suffered in the end.
Between the barriers of different universes, that was a reality colder than any winter.
Bela went into full panic mode, breaking herself down to the most primal of reactions. In a frenzied display of raw emotion, she began to scream and slam her hands against the wall of her cage, over and over. The imprisoned killer cried out in an ear-piercing shriek that detailed just how distraught her heart had turned. "Why are you doing this to us?! What did you we ever do to you?!"
"Shut your damn mouth!" Malcolm screamed back at her.
"Let us go!" With both hands on the bars, Bela relentlessly pulled back and forth. She'd break all her bones if she had to. Sheer muscle from skin. The only outcome she wanted was to be able to break out of this prison. Her chain snaked around the side of her body as she fought, creating an eerie melody of misery as she progressed.
The cage would not budge, but as he watched her fight, a part of Malcolm's plan did.
He glanced over at Edith, eyeing the bleeding that was still going on. Her inner thighs were drenched in crimson by this point. As Bela's shouts played out in his left ear, he took the time to reconsider his next move. This was a scene that would only happen once, and he needed to make the most of it.
With a sudden motion, he pressed another rag against Edith's vagina and shut her legs. It was only seconds before he threw his pants back on and dragged the paralyzed captive back up the table, to where she had previously been seated. The brunette's eyes opened in confusion as she gazed up at him, but he did not say a word to her. The only thing he did was just throw that blanket back on and turn his attention to Bela instead.
"I'm not going to waste what I have in me," he said. "Not on her." Malcolm reached for the keys on his belt, yanking them off and quickly sorting through them to find the one that would unlock Bela's cage. "This is a sign. I just know it."
He knelt and unlocked her door right away. "The Fabled Ones, Satterion, in particular, always said that our lives revolve around an individual mission. We cannot stray from that mission."
The cage door swung open. "My mission is to save you," he told her. "You are the wife I must save. Edith and Mabel, no. That is why the Fabled Ones have allowed this to happen. The rules of the wedding ceremony must be forsaken. It is the only way."
.
Ethan tried to remember the roads that led to Perkel Street as he cautiously navigated the treacherous environment of Serpenmoor. The moon was large and prominent in the sky above, but the dark clouds that enshrouded it kept the source of illumination dim. Without his lantern, he could barely see anything far off. The sharp silhouettes of the numerous buildings around him jutted out in a grim, gothic pattern.
The street lamps stood tall like corpses, absent of light, and absent of soul. This was a dead world. He was the invader. With his gun at the ready, he crept along the walls, keeping an eye out for anything that may see him.
Fighting was a last resort. One gunshot would alert the whole city. He needed to keep moving, remembering the curvatures of the roads, and the names that went with them. Bela had to be close by. He just knew it.
.
Malcolm had Bela out of her cage, propped up like a doll. With her hands bound behind her back, the blonde could not fight him off if she wanted to. This entire nightmare had seen her stripped of her jewelry, gloves, and shoes. Her hood would remain down, leaving her feeling more exposed than ever.
Before her stood the man who had inflicted all this damage. He looked at her with a sinister gleam – that same glare he held every time he would end up breaking her. With the religious book of the Fabled Ones in his hands, he held the scripture out to her and instructed her to repeat his words.
"I submit myself to commit," he began, fixating on her with a scrutinizing gaze throughout. "I lay away the life before me as I enter the one anew."
Bela took a breath and bowed her head. She didn't want to speak the words, but for Edith and Mabel, she'd have to. She could not sit by and watch them suffer anymore. Someone else had to pick up the slack.
It would be her.
It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay…
"I submit myself to commit," she ended with the faintest of whimpers.
"Say the next part!" He barked. She jolted.
"I lay away the life before me as I enter the one anew."
Malcolm gave her the next verse, "In this bond between people, we will join as one."
"In this bond of people…we will join as one…"
"Good," he said. "Now, the final part: I do solemnly swear, with the Fabled Ones watching over me, to never dishonor my commitment. For I give my life to my partner and my soul to my creators."
"I do solemnly swear…"
.
Ethan dashed across the side of the road, the two infected men chasing after him. The maggot-ridden folk were not slow by any means. Their persistent gurgling clung to the back of his ear as he turned to evade them. Larvae all around their faces. In their eyes. Seeping through their nostrils.
It was a manifestation of rot. Vikcia's gift to this realm.
A pair of hands caught him by the back of his coat. One had gotten too close. He had tried to abstain from firing his gun. A pull of that trigger would surely alert the others. He did not have enough ammunition to fend many off and the weapon was slow to reload.
Ethan battled the odds just as much as he battled these monsters – if not more so.
The gurgling mass rotated from the side of his ear to the front of his face as he spun around. The first infected man in the grey suit jacket closed in, knocking him to the ground. The gun was no longer an option. They were body to body; Ethan fighting him off as best he could.
Fists struck the infected's head, but it only spilled piles of maggots onto him. Through the corner of his squinted eyes, Ethan could see the other one lurching forward. In ten seconds, it would join the fight and likely end his life.
Ten seconds to spare. Ten seconds to kill the first one.
"Get the fuck off me!" Ethan withdrew his knife from his coat and plunged it into where he believed an eye socket would have been. The metal blade dived in without an issue, but it threw more larvae down as it dove deeper. It was too dark to see the blood well, but the droplets arrived in no time.
Wrenching the knife out, Ethan followed up with a series of jabs to the plagued man's throat. The sharp edge sheered his arteries apart, unleashing a cascade of red across the side of Ethan's arm. The infected's gurgling reached a fever pitch before it died off, along with him. Ethan pushed the motionless body of the creature away as he scooted back across the street and onto the sidewalk.
The second one was just feet away by now, but luckily for him, the twin-barreled firearm was back within arm's reach. A lone wolf in a great forest, with only his teeth to carve his name into the hills. Ethan would not lose this fight.
He picked up the gun and shouldered it as quickly as he could. At point-blank range, he squeezed the trigger that controlled the shotgun barrel and sent a spread of large pellets hurtling toward the second man's body.
He watched as the shape of it collapsed straight down to the ground. The vibration of the gunshots sang its song across the many blocks around him. Forcing himself back onto his feet, Ethan broke open the action and plucked out the spent shell, reaching for a new one out of his coat pocket.
The gun was slammed back shut, and he set his sights on the road nearby. That had to be where Perkel Street was, he believed. The denizens of this mad landscape would be searching for their next meal right about now. He had to run.
.
Malcolm set the book down as he walked up to the blonde in front of him. The look in his eyes behind those circular glasses may as well have been those of the Devil himself. "Embrace your new husband."
She instinctively took a step back, but the ceremony had taken place right in front of the door to his bedroom. Her shoulders bumped into the barrier when she moved, signaling that she was boxed in. She felt his hands grip her by the throat, wrapping around it like a python's body. Bela must have been so afraid that she did not even see them coming. All she knew was that she was being pulled forward – right into him.
His lips pressed against hers. It was her first kiss.
I feel so gross! Get off of me!
She stood frozen in place, not breathing at all. A snapshot in the act of violation. The wretched scent of his breath invaded her mouth and seared itself upon every tastebud inside of it as he engrossed himself on the plump bearings of his victim.
This wasn't the joyous occasion that she could have fantasized about like Daniela did. Never before in her life had she expected to ever find her lips joined with a man's – nor had she expected it to be because of this. It was stolen from her. Everything that every woman had in this house had been taken away.
He held her face, pressing his hands around the back of her head so that she could not turn away. Bela tried to fight for air whenever passages between their mouths would open. She needed to breathe, but every breath was a taste of the molestation.
Finally, Malcolm pulled himself away, licking his lips as he watched her withering expression break down. This was just what he wanted. "I love you," he said.
She was too distraught to respond.
"Say it to me!" Malcolm screamed at the top of his lungs. Bela pressed her back to the wall.
"I love you!"
He reached over and grabbed the doorknob, rotating it as he grabbed her by the back of her hair. "Now, you can prove it." Malcolm pushed Bela past the threshold, into his bedroom. "In you go!"
.
Ethan struck the infected bird with the stock of his gun, sending the bug-eyed animal down to the ground. The creature had been clawing at him ever since it descended from that rooftop two blocks away. The man couldn't trust that there wouldn't be others close by, so he abstained from shooting at it. Thankfully, it did not take long to deliver a devasting strike.
Rolling around, wings flapping, the two-foot-long animal struggled to get back in the air, but a hard stomp from Ethan's foot caved in its torso. With a sharp squawk, the bird fell limp and ceased being a threat.
One down.
Ethan sped down the street, hearing the sound of more creatures not too far away. He had to find that house, and fast. "Where the fuck is it?!" He groaned to himself as he checked around the signs nearby, hoping that something would help spur his memory. Perkel Street had to have been close by. If anything, within the next block or two.
In the distance, he could see several more infected people lumbering about, searching for something to eat. His eyes panned across the cityscape, taking notice of the Onolask Clock Tower in the distance. The large timetable at its face was still flush with light – the only structure in this entire place to still contain it. How was that possible?
Ethan moved further down the cobblestone road, rounding the next corner past what may have been several apartment residences. The dwellings were beginning to match up with what he had seen in that vision. It inspired confidence that this was the right direction. The man kept his eyes peeled, investigating every house number that he could see. The numbers were low, in the mid-thirties.
109 could not have been too far at all.
As soon as his head turned back to the front, Ethan suddenly felt another pulsating wave of energy course through his body. The warm glimmer of particles sped through his veins, briefly flashing a tinge of blue across the lines in the back of his hands. This had to be the metal fragment at work, he thought. The fear that he would black out yet again emerged, which would likely leave him at the mercy of the ravenous hordes that were on his tail.
"Argh!" Ethan fought away the next headache that appeared out of nowhere. It crashed through his system like a speeding truck, taking him by complete surprise as it barreled through his brain. His vision went blurry for a few seconds, but he was able to remain alert. Through his teeth, his strained voice spoke out, "Why the fuck is this happening?"
He heard the voice of a woman in his head. It sounded so familiar. Could it have been Bela's sister, Cassandra? "You say you wish to save the rest of the fawns, but look at what you are doing!" The pulsation of his headache increased and spun around like a vortex in his mind. He heard the brunette speak again, "What if Balia was in your arms? What would you do, then?"
It was followed by the voice of another woman, rife with hatred and rage. The same voice he had heard multiple times before, "Do not say her name!"
"What is this? Who is Balia?" Ethan said to himself, still feeling the warmth taking over his body. The street lamp suddenly flickered, but only for a second. The flash of light had barely managed to catch his eye, but he knew he saw it. Unfortunately, he also saw another infected man standing on the side of the road, just several yards away.
Ethan threw his gun back into his shoulder, his finger wrapped around the trigger. He was ready to blast the maggot-ridden husk apart, but to his amazement, the infected citizen simply strangely gazed at him. It was so weird, he thought. It was like the creature wasn't sure what it was looking at. Could he see him at all?
Not taking his chances, Ethan backed away and took off down the road. As he spared a moment to look over his shoulder, he could see the individual still on the side of the road, searching for food.
What just happened?
.
Malcolm placed Bela at the edge of his bed, her bindings now untied. The rancid smell of the room was enough to clog her lungs. It reeked of bodily oils and sweat. The white sheets that had been laid over the mattress were messy and stained. They must not have been cleaned for months.
She gagged as she drew in breath, though Malcolm was seemingly unphased. He lived in this squalor.
"It is time," he gleefully remarked to the woman in front of him. "Now, get undressed."
With a set of teary eyes and a furrowed brow, Bela reared her head up at him, hoping that he would somehow change his mind and spare her this atrocity. Her desires were unrealistic, just as much as his ran rampant throughout the lives of the ladies he had taken.
Seeing that she had not moved to do so, Malcolm casually chucked at her as he shook his head. "Alright, maybe I had lied to you earlier," he ended his sentence there, which left Bela on a mental cliffhanger.
What was he lying about?
The man pointed to her dark gown. "I told you that you don't get to choose anymore. I was wrong" His forefinger swirled around as it centered on her chest. "I will give you a choice: You can take your clothes off, or I will take them off. Which do you prefer?"
She shuddered as soon as she heard that. This was going to happen either way. There was no stopping it. The only thing that Bela could hope to do was to save herself the extra trauma. She wanted to retain a sliver of control. What would follow would be the most daunting and harrowing event of her life, yes, but this was her chance to hold herself together.
The blonde quietly answered him, "I will take them off…"
"Good wife."
Sniffling as she did so, Bela began to unbutton the middle of her gown. The center of the dress opened up, revealing her pale stomach. She averted her eyes from him so that she would not have to remember the way he watched her like a starving animal. When this was all done and she was back in her cage, she'd hopefully have fewer memories to tie to it.
Bela pulled the gown over, exposing her bare shoulders before her arms withdrew from its sleeves. Her whimpers coupled with the falling tears from her eyes, but she did not make too much noise. The dark outfit that she once so proudly wore throughout her life now sat crumpled at her feet.
The only things that she had left to retain her dignity were her black bra and torn leggings. The latter would not last for long, as Malcolm eagerly approached the blonde, salivating at her soft, pale skin. He was the painter and her body was the unwilling canvas. She feared the brush. With her underwear still attached, she knew it would only be seconds before the inevitable.
He grabbed at the stockings and tore them away, which exposed more of her thighs. Bela crossed her legs as she stood, but it would do her no favors. Malcolm pointed to her bra, "That too."
She wouldn't budge.
"Now!" He screamed.
.
The trail of house numbers was creeping up to the one that Ethan had been searching for. He had just passed 93 by the time he stopped to double-check his surroundings. There was a strange feeling looming over him. It was like he was being watched, but he could not see anyone there.
At the edge of the sidewalk, he peeked up at the powerless street lamp that stood tall above him, which made him wonder just what exactly had gone down back there. There had been no source of electrical light ever since he and Bela had arrived in this world – except that in the clock tower itself.
Why all of a sudden did one flicker?
He shrugged off his questions. There were more important matters at hand. The problem was that there seemed to be so many things in this world that he had yet to understand. What he was missing that could improve his chances of making it out of here? This couldn't be impossible, he thought. There just had to be a way.
With his eyes set back on the string of houses around him, Ethan started to run down the rest of the sidewalk, scanning around for 109. His journey brought him to the corner of an intersection, where the scene immediately looked as familiar as he hoped it would be.
"This has to be it," he muttered. Ethan glanced up at the street sign next to him. Perkel Street. He smiled with a sigh of relief, "Yeah, this is it."
Once he turned his head, the image of the apartment-like dwelling in his vision quickly appeared within view. There was no longer any doubt in his mind at all. The images that he witnessed were not delusions or pure coincidence. They had to have had a profound connection to the reality at hand. And if that reality was true, then that meant Bela was in trouble.
He had to get to her.
.
Bela began to pull at the shoulders of her bra. The blonde's hands shook vigorously as she did so, flinching as the air landed on the skin of her chest. The soft lining was pulled over her head, and the last thing she saw before it was removed was the man's predatory gaze.
This can't be happening…
Everything was happening too fast. By the time she realized her bra had come off, it was already dangling from her hand at her side. Her lungs expelled a quake out from her throat as she found herself at the center of her worst fears imaginable. There was no escaping this now. There never was. She would endure the same violation as the others.
Please…just let me die…
Despair ran down her spine as she watched him advance toward her, eyes still fixated on her breasts. His hands rose and grabbed hold of them, which sent a shiver across the blonde's skin. Bela closed her eyes and pressed her lips, tearfully raising her head toward the ceiling to avert seeing him. There was no way to ignore the touch of his thumb across her nipple; the tightening of his palms against her front.
She'd take the opportunity to cherish what was left of her soul while it lasted.
"That's it!" Ethan exclaimed as he saw the number 109 installed across the outer wall of the residence. He walked up to the front, his gun pointed at the entryway. From what he could see, the windows appeared to be boarded up, but the slightest glimmers of light were visible through them.
He peeked through the opening, hoping to see Bela. His expectations would be shattered once he saw that he could only see the bottom legs of a large, wooden table next to a small, iron cage. The presence of a long chain attached to a collar was noted as he tried to glimpse who was inside. Even though no one was to be found, he knew in his heart that this had to be where she was being kept.
Determination filled his veins. He stepped over to the front door, carefully turning the knob to see if it would open. Locked.
"Shit…" Ethan moved to the next plan that he could put together. There had to be another way inside. Making a bunch of noise right now would draw an alert. Chris's training was back in his head. He'd have to be as covert as possible. Do everything in his power to slip by quietly, but if he had to go loud, then he'd have to be ready to be the loudest person in the room.
He moved around the wall and made his way down the edge of the home, the dark cloak of the night sky shielding him from the world. His eyesight had adapted to the shadows around him. He could discern the proximity of the debris in his path, avoiding the likelihood that he would stumble over them.
As Ethan moved closer toward the back, an intense aroma of decay quickly invaded his nose. It was the smell of death. Curiosity drove him to turn on his flashlight. This wasn't just the ordinary smell of a corpse on the ground. It was something else. Something stronger.
As he searched for the form of a body on the surface of the narrow, concrete space between residences, Ethan could find nothing. The smell…where was it coming from?
His concern revolved around the chance that this could have been Bela. Had she been murdered? Did he act too late on her behalf? Ethan spat out a quick mutter to accentuate his stress, "Fuck…" He couldn't afford to have failed another person like that. She had to be alive.
With the flashlight guiding his way, Ethan trailed the awful scent, taking it in through shallow breaths as it grew more overwhelming. His foot kicked a thick, cloth bag, feeling a soft, hefty weight inside. It wasn't just a cushiony object in there. No.
It had a skeleton.
Ethan knelt and sat his gun at his side. With his knife, he carefully cut open a portion of the bag, expecting to see locks of blonde hair and pale skin appear between the split. Instead, he saw something else.
A photograph.
"Huh?" Ethan pulled the black and white image out from inside, shining his light on it as the intense cloud of rot escaped into the air. It was a picture of a family. A young wife, likely in her late twenties. Two young daughters; brunettes just as she was. They couldn't have been older than five or six. The father appeared to be twice the age of his spouse.
A bald man, tall and thin – with circular glasses over his eyes.
Ethan glanced down at a crumpled-up note that had fallen out from the edge. He quickly went to scoop it up, fighting to not vomit from the horrendous odor. It was scribbled in pen, written with the handwriting of a person who had only had so many years of life to learn it.
"Please help us. Our father has gone mad. He has our mother locked up in her room. Send the constables to 109. He won't let us leave."
The paper was stained with dark liquids, as well as the faint touch of a crimson spill. The condition of it told the story of a plea for help that had not been made any time recently. By now, the stench of the festering contents of the bag had reached an unbearable level. Gases – pent up inside over a substantially long period – erupted into the air.
Ethan made a decision that he would immediately regret. He used the tip of the knife to cut through the next few layers of cloth bags that were inside. His breathing paused, but he could feel the dense aura of the rot beneath them. Under the illumination of his flashlight – he saw the moldy, decomposed face of a little girl.
"Jesus Christ!" Ethan backed away from the bag, gagging as he covered his mouth with the back of his arm. He could have never prepared himself for that. Suddenly, the distaste in his stomach rose, expelling its contents upward.
Puking his guts out across the wall, he stood hunched over, reeling from the scent as he gasped for fresh oxygen. This wasn't the work of Vikcia or her creations. None of them could have been capable of doing such a thing. They were only ravenous animals – but this was the work of a true monster.
As he recovered, Ethan suddenly heard the scream of an angered man from inside the home, "Now!" His focus snapped in the direction of the yelling. With his mind still spinning, he thought he may have heard the faint cry of a woman, but he couldn't be too certain.
Certainty wasn't a factor anymore. He just knew he'd have to act. There could be no hesitation.
.
As Malcolm continued to play with her chest, he found himself unable to take his eyes off them. The man couldn't wait for the next part of this. He released his hand and shoved Bela down onto the bed. She caught herself with her elbows, her body rotated toward the side. The sick pervert grabbed at the side of her undergarments, yanking them down to the bottom of her hips.
She tried to mentally distance herself from this, but the constant motion brought her thoughts back to the present. The influx of tears that streamed from her eyes was seemingly infinite. She could cry forever.
It felt like this would go on forever as well.
But, like a strike of luck from the heavens themselves, Malcolm suddenly turned his head to the sound of a beating against the front door of the house. The loud banging echoed throughout the room, barely muffled by the bedroom door that sealed them off. The rapist glared in the direction of the noise before he quickly exited the room.
Did Mabel get out of her cage?
Within seconds, Malcolm came running back in, running toward the drawer near the bed. There he pulled out the revolver that he had taken from Bela. That was when she realized that the sounds were not coming from Mabel at all.
Is something…trying to get in?
Malcolm pointed the pistol in her direction, too frantic to consider binding her wrists again. The noise was raging on outside. Whatever it was that was trying to storm the house needed to be eliminated. "Do not even think of moving, understand?!"
Bela buckled under the pressure. "Yes!" She looked away, fearful that he would shoot her at any second. Instead, Malcolm only spared her a fraction of a second before he ran out of the room and toward the intruder. The blonde was left in a state of panic. Never before had she been out of her cage unrestrained, without him nearby at all.
She could hear the commotion of Malcolm unlocking the entrance and barreling through it. Surely, he must have gone outside. That gave her time to assess her situation. Her eyes immediately moved to glance at the drawer where the revolver had been taken from.
My sickle…could it be there?
In a hurry, Bela dove off of the bed and ran for the drawer. As soon as her fingers reached in, she could feel the handle of the blade under them. She did not wait.
I need to get out of here!
Watching the occupant of the residence burst through the opened door and glance outside, Ethan waited in the shadows at the other end of the street. He had heard the sounds approaching and knew that it would be better for him to have the advantage in case a fight was to break out. He could not see the man too well, but the way he ran gave him the impression that this had not been one of the infected.
"Bela…" He whispered to himself. Ethan darted across the street when the coast was clear and made his entry into the home. As soon as he stepped in, however, he was greeted with the most terrible sight. He gazed at the semi-nude woman who lay on the table, covered by a blanket stained with blood.
As the sound of his footsteps drew near, he failed to observe any movement from her, though he still could not see her face. On the opposite end of the room was another woman who was locked away inside a cage of her own. A brunette with even darker hair than the other one. She was so still, possibly dead. The woman did not register his presence at all.
His voice shook with the tone of a man unnerved by the reality around him, "What…the hell…?"
As he walked around the table with his gun drawn, he glanced down at the girl who had various tubes connected to her body. Miraculously – and to his fright – he saw her blue eyes turn to him as he moved within her view. Her cracked lips opened in awe, but her breathing remained strained.
He could not fathom what kind of horrors were going on in here.
Ethan gulped as his eyes darted around the room, unsure if he was about to be attacked or not. He then spoke to the injured girl, "Is there anyone else in here?"
That was when he suddenly heard the cries of Bela from the room's half-opened door behind him, "Ethan!" Bela emerged from the threshold, disheveled and frightened as ever. Her gown looked like it had been quickly thrown back onto her body; nowhere near the fitted state that she always wore it. The blonde's face was drenched in tears, mixed with the blurry recesses of moisturized blood specks. Ethan knew the aftermath of abuse when he saw it, but this? This was something else.
"Oh my god!" Ethan set down his gun as he ran up to her, taking her by the sides of the arms as he held her close. The woman broke down into a fit of sobs as she fell into him. She had been so rattled that she looked like she could hardly stand, but she would still keep her legs sturdy.
From down below, he could see the presence of her sickle and a set of keys in her hands. He wanted to know what was going on, but before he could ask, she pointed at the door in haste. "Where is he?"
"Where is who?" Ethan asked, trying to calm her down. "That man?"
She quickly broke free from his grasp and ran over to the front door, twisting and bolting every lock that she could find. As he watched her barricade the entrance in a hysterical frenzy, he heard the voice of the woman on the table call out to him, "You are…Ethan?"
He looked at her, confused as ever. "Yes?"
Edith drew in another breath to ready her lungs. "You are…the man…she talked about. The one...she loves."
With parted lips, Ethan stepped back, uncertain if he had heard that right. "Wait, what?"
There was no time for Edith to answer. Bela came running back toward the center of the room, joining him as she eyed the other women around them. Ethan laid his hand on her shoulder, but after everything she had endured, the blonde shied away.
"Bela," Ethan said, "we need to get out of here."
Her amber eyes glanced down at the keys in her hand; the ones that had been so carelessly left on the dresser when the man who imprisoned her went out to eliminate the intruder. It would have been the perfect set-up for a getaway, but even in her frenzied state, her mind was clear as ever. There were only two fates that could be chosen – and she had already made her choice.
"No…I won't leave them." She pushed past him and approached Mabel's cage, kneeling as she went to unlock it. Bela fumbled through the keys, growing increasingly frustrated with each one that failed to undo the lock. "Damn it!" She threw the next one in, then another, and then another.
Just as Ethan made his way over to her – click. The large padlock opened up and Bela crawled inside.
Mabel was seated against the corner of the cage. Having felt the vibrations, her body was tense, fearing that Malcolm was on his way to her at any given second. Her head bobbed up, allowing Ethan to see her mutilated state.
He covered his mouth in utter disbelief. "What the fuck has been going on in here?"
Bela did not say a single word to him as she cautiously reached out to the brunette. As soon as her hand touched Mabel's emaciated shoulder, the woman kicked around in terror. However, after a few seconds, she noticed that this was not the rough, forceful grip of a sadistic madman. No.
It was the comforting touch of a fellow woman.
Whimpering through her tongueless mouth, Mabel's arms shook with sadness as she felt Bela embrace her. The soft, soddened cheeks of another captive rested alongside the brunette's battered face. The corners of the prisoner's mouth rose with an elated sense of joy. Even though she lived in darkness, the light had finally reached her.
As they hugged, Bela whispered into her ear, even if she would never hear it, "You're safe now. It's okay. Nobody is ever going to hurt you anymore."
This poor girl. I wish I could have gotten to know her. She never deserved this kind of life.
Ethan then noticed something alarming. "Bela, what are you –"
She slashed Mabel's throat with the edge of her sickle, causing an explosion of blood.
Horrified, Ethan banged on the top of the cage. "Bela! What the hell?!" By the time that he saw her face when she crawled out, it was obvious that this was not the same killer who he had encountered in that castle. She was immensely distraught; looking like she knew she had just committed a terrible act and was drowning in regret.
Mabel's body went limp in almost an instant, lying motionless in a growing pool of sanguine sorrow. While her final months of life had been spent trapped within a mental ruin, the final seconds of it did not have to be so.
Bela was hyperventilating by the time she got up and shambled over to Edith's table. She could not even think. Her train of thought was an audience to the events in front of her. A car whose driver was strapped in but not at the wheel, watching helplessly as it barreled off a cliff and into the flames of Hell.
With the bloody sickle in her hand, she stood over Edith, too ashamed to look her in the eye until she heard that comforting voice of the paralyzed young lady, "Bela…it's okay." It only made her cry harder as she covered her face with her left hand.
Edith spoke again, "Look at me…Bela." After a troubled moan, the blonde dropped her hand and gazed down at the woman who had done everything she could to keep her strong. "It's okay."
Bela shook her head, "I'm so sorry, Edith." She could hardly maintain her composure while Ethan watched from the sideline. The man wanted to interject, but he could see that he was only a bystander amid something he may never fully understand. "I couldn't let her suffer anymore," she whimpered with a rocky tone. "What is happening outside these walls is –"
"Bela…" Edith interrupted her, "…I forgive you." It came out as a contradiction of Edith's earlier mentioning about how she could not forgive Bela for what she had done to the servants of the castle, as it was not her place to do so – only the dead.
The gravity of that statement came full circle when Bela understood that Edith's words had not contradicted themselves at all. In cases like these, only the dead could forgive, yes, and she would be one of them.
Bela set her hand that held the bloody sickle against the side of the table, leaning over as she cried intensely above the girl she had grown to know. Edith smiled at her, offering her some encouragement, "I wish we…had met sooner. You…would have made…my life so much…fun."
With a gasp for air and a sniffling breath to follow, Bela glanced at her with a small, uneasy smile along the side of her face. "I wish I had met you sooner too, Edith." She placed her hand against the girl's cheek.
"Your hand feels…so warm. It isn't…cold any longer." Her blue eyes locked onto the amber orbs of the woman from a different universe. The angel who had descended from the heavens to rescue her in the end. "Thank you for…being my friend."
"Thank you for saving me as well, my friend." Bela rolled her lips and shut her eyes, draining another set of tears from their ducts.
Edith closed her eyes as well. "I look forward…to dreaming forever. I hope…in my dreams…we shall meet again."
"We will," Bela said with a crack in her voice. "You can go to sleep…and dream as much as you want."
"Thank you…Bela," Edith smiled as she spoke her final words.
Bela acted on what she knew she had to do. She slammed the front of her sickle straight down into the center of the girl's chest. It tore through her sternum and pierced her heart in an instant. After so many years of killing, she had known just where to place it and how to do so effectively. It was enough to end Edith's life for good, taking her away from all that pain and suffering in the blink of an eye.
She did not make a single bit of noise when it happened. Not even a grimace upon her brow. It was like a light switch had been turned off. Despite all the blood that now drained out from her torso, Edith had gone out in peace.
She could now move freely among the heavens – no longer confined to a table.
Bela, on the other hand, collapsed onto the floor beside the large piece of furniture, crying in the face of what she had done. Killing these two women was something that she had not put any thought into. It just happened. This had to have been the result of a subconscious knowledge that there would be no future for either of them. They were doomed from the very start. Ending their lives was nothing less than an act of mercy.
She remembered killing Sorina the same way during the massacre of the maids before Ethan's arrival. The touch of remorse that she felt at that time was a fraction of what she felt now. But that was a feeling that she had always been capable of – only now being able to experience it in full.
This was her transformation. Bela Dimitrescu was no longer a killer at heart. Those actions weren't those of a monster. Not like that had been for decades before.
She was human – and she would pay the cost of it all.
Ethan's eyes sat on the corpse of Edith for a second before they moved to Bela. He got down onto his knees and took her into his arms again, consoling her in an act of support. She crouched herself against the side of the table, uncontrollably bawling into her open hands. He had never seen her so devastated before. The man almost didn't recognize her like this.
Oh, he thought, how wrong had he been back there.
"Bela, I'm here!" He hugged her tighter. "It's going to be alright."
"It's –" Her sobs cut off her speech. She expanded her lungs greatly as her exhale dissolved into a loud wail. "I'm so sorry, Edith!" Her amber eyes, bordered by the pink hue of pulsating sadness, peered at the lifeless young hand that dangled off of the edge. Bela could not come to terms with what she had done, even if there had been no other choice.
"We need to get out of here," Ethan said as he stood her up off the ground. As soon as the two of them were on their feet, a gunshot blasted through the room. "Fuck!" He shouted with a jolt. Bela turned her eyes toward him, watching as he stumbled over and collapsed, blood coming down his right arm. She sped over to go help him.
Ethan!
As she tended to the man, Bela turned her head to where the sound had originated from. From the opening between the boarded-up windows, she noticed the barrel of the revolver pointing through. Within seconds, a series of strikes against the barricades caused the boards to break off the frames.
There, at the window, was the vengeful glare of Malcolm as he watched her.
The psychopath climbed through the opening as he aimed his gun at them. Breathing angrily, he cocked the hammer and took a couple of steps closer, the end of the barrel centered on the other man in the room. Malcolm then turned his attention to the dead bodies of Edith and Mabel, his mouth dropping at the sight of the death the blonde had just created.
"What did you do?!" Malcolm screamed in a fury. He stomped his foot on the floor, rage propelling him to want to pull the trigger and end Bela's life. However, his wrath was stifled as he rationed that not all had been lost. A major setback, yes, but she was still the pinnacle of everything that he had wanted.
There could still be a way to salvage this.
Bela reached over and grabbed her sickle out from Edith's chest, pointing it at Malcolm from a dozen feet away. She knew that his gun would slaughter her in an instant, and part of her was ready for it to do so. She would not allow herself to be his prisoner any longer. He would have no control over her body or her life.
Gazing at her blatant defiance, Malcolm's mouth dropped to a frown, only for it to then rise into another one of his twisted smiles. "So…this is how you act?"
She tearfully screamed back at him, "You do not get to tell me what to do!"
"Oh, I see," he said. "This is the man you love, right? The one you and that bitch were talking about?" Malcolm watched as Ethan sat up, clutching his bleeding arm. The trails of red streams were dim along the beige coat he had worn, but the loss of such an amount was nothing to shrug off. The twin-barreled gun that the man had brought with him was out of reach, which gave the perverted bishop a chance to remain in control.
Malcolm pointed the gun at Bela. "I admire love, you know? I think it is the greatest thing in the world. The things we do to obtain it," he laughed. "You love him, don't you?"
Bela looked over at the man she had entered the world with. She looked so upset, but the way her eyes sat on him was like those of a long-lost partner. She was just happy to have him with her again.
Malcolm turned his stare to Ethan as well. "I'll let you kill him if you do. Make it quick, just like the others here. Or…" His eyes moved back to her. "I can let you watch as I kill him. I'll take my sweet time. You may not love me, Bela, but that is what we have together. Time. We have all the time in the world."
Bela's hand shook as she held onto her sickle. She knew in her heart that she would not use it to harm Ethan. Not again. Not anymore. Malcolm's demands were brutal, however, he would not think twice about acting on them. Was there an alternative? Could she somehow kill him and prevent Ethan from having to suffer a torturous death?
It seemed like there was not. The only option now was to just accept that this was where their journey ended. At the very least, it would end together.
She turned to him with a smile, echoing the thoughts she had when they once stood together against Vikcia's hordes of infected, right before the break of daylight. They had been ready to die but would do so in each other's arms. That was when her heart had bound itself to him, even if she had not known it at the time. "We're in this together."
"We are," he replied.
Her amber soul molded to his presence. "Together must mean until the end, right?"
Ethan gulped as he glared back at Malcolm. With the confidence that Rose was safe somewhere beyond this universe, he found himself somewhat calm. It was an unusual turn of events for him, but he took the moment for what it was. His eyes returned to those of his former enemy, who was now something more. "To the very end," he replied. "Just like I promised."
Malcolm groaned as he looked on, "None of you get to change what happens. This is my house! I am the one in control here! I say who lives! I say who dies!"
Bela's face lit up in fear, as did Ethan's. Malcolm took joy in the way they responded to him. His thirst for power over others elevated his ego, knowing that his gun upheld his authority. It wasn't until the clouds of shadows made their way around the sides of him that he realized the terror in the duo's eyes had not been born from his presence.
He bent his elbow, angling the pistol toward the ceiling as he craned his neck over his shoulder. "What is this?" As soon as he rotated his body, Malcolm's curtain came crashing down.
Standing behind him was the dust witch herself – Vikcia.
Bela seized on the chance to help Ethan get back up, taking his long gun along with them as the two shambled over to the back corner. The only way out of the house would be to go through the front, but with Vikcia standing at the helm, it would be a death sentence to try and do so.
Yet, despite all the uncertainty that went around, the blonde took some solace that her tormentor was now in the presence of something he could not control. A woman who could – and would – savagely enact carnage upon him.
Vikcia smiled with a giggling glee as she began to approach the man in front of her, bobbing her head in anticipation as she did so. The intense light from the lanterns around her was quickly snuffed out with the unseen force of her substantial powers. Malcolm directed his revolver at her, but the shadow woman remained unfazed.
"Whore of darkness!" He screamed, sounding as nervous as ever. "You cannot hurt me! I have walked your ruin! The Fabled Ones keep me safe!"
Vikcia tilted her head at him, her smile broadening as stray maggots and plumes of dust fell from the gaps in her grin. She was well aware of Bela and Ethan being in the room, briefly snapping her head at them as they shuffled about. Yet, despite all her curiosity regarding the two, her drive to eat caused her to fixate on the man with the gun.
Bela watched as the encounter unfolded, taking note of Malcolm's words.
How did he evade her for so long? What did he do that brought her here?
Her eyes glanced at the coat rack, noticing how Vikcia shied away from it as she entered. Something about it must have affected her.
His coat…I need to grab it when we escape!
The flesh-eating lady advanced further into the room, forcing Malcolm back, while Bela and Ethan circled the side, inching closer to the exit. Aware that his safety was in danger, Malcolm fired off two rounds into Vikcia's chest, but it brought no reaction. They just passed through her cloudy body and kept going.
Malcolm began to pray, "Oh, Fabled Ones. Carriage riders of the stars. Please expel this demon from –"
Vikcia lunged at him.
Malcolm's words were cut short as the powerful creature tackled him to the ground. Held under the weight of what felt like a thousand pounds, the carnivorous being pinned the now-helpless rapist to the floor, thrashing him about like a bear to small deer. Fixtures, trinkets, and books were knocked over as the lady of death prepared her next meal. With dark clouds of dust now encircling him, he could only look on in horror as the witch flashed her sharp talons in the air. The lanterns that were still lit caused a glimmer to shine along those vicious claws.
Those pointed fingers – and her wicked smile – were the last things he saw before she drove them straight into his eyes.
Malcolm's body kicked around, withering in pain as Vikcia pulverized his ocular sockets with shards of glass that broke out from his shattered lenses. Her talons burst through his eyeballs, curving in and hooking his cheekbones in the process. It was a torturous kill, as her claws had not gone in far enough to pierce his brain – serving only to subdue him.
Like Mabel, he would exist in a world of darkness. Vikcia maintained her hold of his face, using it to her advantage as she leaned down and bit onto the side of his arm, tearing his flesh from his bones. With blood gushing out from his nostrils and wounds, Malcolm fought her air as she continued to devour him.
Vikcia would have normally ended her prey's life at this point, but she needed the most potent blood that she could get. As long as his heart would beat, she would find what she wanted. Until she had her fill, he would have to endure the agony.
Such was the law of nature – which even predators had to obey.
With the exit to the home now clear, Bela and Ethan made a quick dash for it. The blonde snagged Malcolm's coat off of the rack before she approached the opened window, hoping that her theory was right and that there was something in there that would answer her burning question.
She climbed through the window and out onto the street, with Ethan following suit right after her. However, just as the man began to collect himself and direct her down the path to safety, Bela found herself fixated on the events that were still transpiring inside the house of horrors she had just been saved from.
The dust witch reared her head up at Bela, smiling with bloody cheeks as she held Malcolm down. The man moaned in anguish, forced to remain still as he was eaten alive. The blonde would not mistake this moment as one of understanding. There was no kinship between the two of them here.
As Vikcia's giggling manifested into a low hiss, Bela knew that there would soon come a time when the beast would seek to do the same to her. But for now, the witch would feast on a man who had violated others in ways that she never could.
Tear him apart…
Vikcia watched as Bela disappeared past the edge of the window frame. The hungry creature growled as she plunged her teeth into Malcolm's arm again, sheering another strip of bloody tissue from him. He buckled around, but she used her other hand to press down onto his legs, snapping the bones inside them. The sound of the man's cries was loud, but they were nothing but sound to her.
He could make all the noise that he wanted.
As the room became encased in darkness, she dined on what she had yielded, happy to eat yet again.
NOTES:
And here we close this dark chapter for good.
This was a lengthy entry. So much so that I considered splitting it into two, despite my previous statement. However, I felt like everything had to be shown at once to bring it to its conclusion.
The biggest message that this arc – and its finale – sought to convey was that there is always someone worse out there. Bela had lived her life as a murderous noblewoman, but when she entered this world, she was stripped of everything that allowed her to be that kind of person. Building from that, this is where we see her change even further.
As horrible as Malcolm is, he is not the main antagonist. Vikcia will be looking for the two and she will find them again. We're moving into the final arc of this story – one where everything finally pieces itself together.
Reflecting on what has led up to this moment, it has been a dark set of chapters. I thank you all for your patience and dedication, as I'm sure this may have been hard for some of you to digest. We're moving toward the love, but the horror had to come first.
I'm still considering writing this as a purely original work, minus the RE elements, to publish one day. Characters like Kyia, Malcolm, Edith, Mabel, and of course…Vikcia, are a preview of what that story could be like. The lore and places we've seen are also on the table here. This may be a fan-fiction, but I sometimes think of it as a first draft, if you will.
I say that because the reception this story has gotten has shown me that there is an audience for these ideas and I love being able to give people what they want to see.
I'll leave this note somewhat brief, as the chapter was long enough. Expect the next one in a week. Posted this one earlier than planned, but the next release should be another single chapter.
Also, check this story out on Archive of Our Own if you'd like to see all the original artwork included in some of the chapters!
Wishing you all a Happy New Year! Hope your year has started off great, and if not, may it get better as it goes on. Thanks for supporting this story and inspiring me to keep working hard. I'm looking forward to the next writings to come, and hope you all stay safe and happy! Please enjoy your weekends and have fun! 😊